


The Fire and The Flood

by imafriendlydalek



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Can't you just talk about things you silly idiots?!?!, Canon-Typical Violence, Civil War (Marvel), Getting Back Together, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Remix, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, this got a little darker than I had planned but it all works out in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5898463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imafriendlydalek/pseuds/imafriendlydalek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything went downhill after Steve moved out of the Tower with the rest of the Avengers and out of Tony's life. 'Downhill' - that doesn't even begin to describe it, really. </p><p>Tony just wants to claw his way out of this abyss and get back to where things used to be. Except now they're stuck on opposite sides of this 'war' and that seems more impossible each day...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fire and The Flood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writedeku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writedeku/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Three Times Tony Stark Showed Weakness (and the one time he didn’t.)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4005622) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> This is a remix of stormfirej's fic "The Three Times Tony Stark Showed Weakness (and the one time he didn’t.)" Thanks for letting me play in your world, stormfirej!
> 
> Thanks also go to OrbingArrow and Amethystina for beta-reading awesomeness (I made some changes after that, though, so any remaining mistakes are the result of my stupidity). 
> 
> The title is from the song of the same name by Vance Joy, which bears no resemblance to this fic, but the idea stuck in my head a while back when I first heard that song that Tony is like fire and Steve is like a flood - both can be very destructive separately, though also necessary for growth and allowing new things to grow. And together they hem in the destructive power of each other (also insert metaphor about "smoldering"). Imma call it Rule 3490: they take each other's destructive tendencies down a notch. They *neeeeed* each other. Ooops, I gave myself feels.

Tony Stark stares at the mess he has created, a tangle of wires and coding, and all he can think of is how badly he has fucked up.

“Tony?”

He turns around and is surprised to see Pepper come into the room, her eyes full of worry and empathy. 

“Hey, Tony. You okay?”

Tony turns back to his mess. “Not really,” he chokes, and Ultron runs through his veins like blood, and wormholes swim over his vision. Words exchanged in anger and so many more unspoken.

“Hey, shhhh, come ‘ere,” Pepper says softly, crossing the room in a few quick strides to wrap her arms around his shoulders. 

Tony lets his head slump against her collarbone, feels a bit of the tension drain from him as she runs her nails through his hair. He remembers how it used to be between them, how she could make him feel like a new man with a few kind words and a soft touch.

Those days are long gone.

And then there was Steve. Tony remembers how it used to be between them, how Steve would look at him like he made the world go ‘round and Tony had actually believed it, just for a moment. How all it took was their arms brushing to set Tony’s skin afire, all it took was a smile and maybe a reassuring word to fade the demons that haunted him.

Those days are gone too.

“I messed up, Pep. I keep messing up. I don’t know why I keep doing it - it’s like I can’t stop myself.”

“You were trying to do the right thing, Tony. It just got away from you.”

Tony lets out a derisive snort. He hadn’t even been referring to the Ultron disaster - he’d meant Steve.

Steve, who had packed up and left the Tower shortly after they got back from Sokovia. Because the team was moving upstate, he’d said. Tony had opted not to go with them, worried he’d do more damage if he went with them and remained a part of the team, but Steve hadn’t even fought it. There had been fatigue in his eyes, the look of someone who knew what they had was over even if neither of them had said it.

***

There’s a glass of whiskey in one hand, and it shakes. His hands are shaking, no surprise there. Of course they would shake, if one hand is holding a glass of the finest whiskey in America and the other a fully loaded Stark pistol.

Tony turns it over in his hand, examining the smooth surface. He remembers the day he designed this model; he vaguely remembers the presentations and sales pitches, the way the gun nuts heralded it as the greatest thing since the Winchester.

He sets it aside, a grimace on his face as he shakes the bullets out of the chamber and locks the cabinet it had been resting in. He has no idea why he’d loaded it. Maybe just to test his muscle memory.

Muscle memory. That’s probably why he’d poured himself this drink too. He’d sworn off the stuff somewhere around when Steve had come into his life with his stoic tee-totaling ways. It was easier to not drink with someone who Didn’t Drink.

It’s harder without them.

Tony downs the remaining liquid, sets the glass down on the table a little harder than necessary. 

Shit.

***

Fire rages all around them. It burns and it consumes and Tony’s beard is singed. He can’t breathe and his suit is compromised.

“Please,” Tony says, and his voice catches on the sound. “Please stand down, Cap. I can’t- I don’t want to hit you anymore. Please just- please. Steve.”

The fire is burning in Steve’s eyes, anger and betrayal and fierce hatred, but something flickers in them, blue washing through that fire. He slumps back, his raised fist drops to his side. The shield falls to the ground with a clatter.

“Tony.” It’s muttered quietly, barely audible over the crackling of the actual fire around them. There’s a rumble of thunder somewhere in the distance.

“I don’t want to fight anymore, Steve. It doesn’t even matter if this registration act gets passed or not. I know we can never go back, but I would give everything to have it again. To have you again.” There they are, the words he’s been keeping back for the past months, hell, maybe even years. Tony lets out a long sigh, a mixture of exasperation, longing, pain and just plain old tiredness. He can taste blood - he must have bit his cheek while Steve was punching the shit out of him. He deserves it - he threw the first punch, after all.

Literally, figuratively.

He deserves it.

He doesn’t deserve Steve. No wonder it all ended like this.

“Tony,” Steve repeats, his voice louder this time, his tone warmer. He reaches out slowly towards Tony, stops when Tony flinches. “I want that too,” he says hesitantly, as if testing the idea.

Tony looks up and catches Steve’s gaze. The fire has faded in his eyes and the blue is shining through. There’s forgiveness there, and maybe even hope.

Steve reaches under Tony’s prone body, wraps a hand under the now useless suit. “Come on,” he grunts as he lifts Tony and the suit. He kicks up the shield, which latches onto his arm, as he carries Tony out of the burning building.

It’s started to rain, droplets of water pinging off the metal of the suit. The fire hisses as the water hits it, reluctant to be put out.

Ages ago, before all this, Tony would have protested at being carried around like this. He doesn’t have the energy now. He just kind of wishes he could feel Steve’s arms around him through the suit.

***

Things are different now, since the turmoil about the Superhuman Registration Act. They’d finally managed to find a compromise, a solution that enough could agree on to actually get it passed. It isn’t perfect, but it works.

And pretty much the same can be said for things between Steve and Tony. They’d reached a relatively stable understanding. The hesitance is still palpable between them, but they actually _talk_ about things now. It will take time to get back the trust they’d shared back in the day, but that’s okay. Tony’s a mechanic, he thinks as he leans back into the couch, snuggling into the crook of the arm Steve has lifted invitingly for Tony to slip under - he fixes things. He builds things.

He smiles up at Steve and Steve returns the gesture, his eyes full of warmth.

They can build this - like the old man said - together.


End file.
